


The Alpha and I

by HenshinHaro



Series: A Somewhere Over The Rainbow [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV), teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Parody, Wizard of Oz AU, wicked soundtrack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-29
Updated: 2013-06-01
Packaged: 2017-11-27 09:16:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/660300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HenshinHaro/pseuds/HenshinHaro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a series of unsettling dreams leaves Stiles desperate enough to seek help from the werewolf who happens to be the main focus of those dreams, he finds himself ripped from reality. With a reluctant 'dream' Alpha by his side, he will have to play along with this crazy delusion in order to find his way back. Although the scenes and faces are more than familiar, nothing is quite what it seems. Stiles can only guess at what awaits him in the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Alpha and I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles has a musical moment.
> 
> Little does he realize, it is just the beginning of something more.

“Did that really just happen? Have I actually understood? This weird quirk I’ve tried to suppress or hide, is a talent that could help me date the Alpha? If I make good. Yeah, I’ll make good.

When I date the Alpha, once I’ve proved my worth. When I date the Alpha, how I’ve longed to feel his girth. And with all his Alpha wisdom by my looks he won’t be blinded. Do you think the Alpha is dumb, or like hunters so small minded? No.

He’ll Say to me ‘I see who you truly are, the boy on who I can rely’ and that’s how we’ll begin, the Alpha and I.

Once I’m with the Alpha, my whole life will change. ‘Cause once you’re with the Alpha, who cares who thinks you’re strange? No best friend will ignore you, though dad might act ashamed. But Beacon Hills has to love you when by the Alpha you are claimed. And this gift or this curse I have inside, maybe at last I’ll know why, when we are hand in hand the Alpha and I.

One day he’ll say to me ‘My Stiles, the boy who is so superior, how can a boy so crazy inside have that seductive exterior? And since I seem, to an absurd degree, am fixated by your anatomy, would it be alright by you if I de-viriginize you?’

Well of course that’s not important to me, ‘Oh my god, yes!’ I’ll reply.

What a pair we’ll be the Alpha and I!

Yes, what pair we’ll be…”

“A pretty good pair!”

“Shut up, Matt!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I was listening to 'The Wizard and I' from Wicked and had the sudden thought that I could make it somehow Sterek related. And then Matt happened at the end because that line in the song was begging for it. Also Matt may or may not be a ghost. I have no idea.
> 
> Previously posted on my tumblr [Blue-Eyed Werewolf](http://blue-eyedwerewolf.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Update May 4, 2013: I decided to make this short piece the prologue to a more or less full Wizard of Oz AU. Chapters will be short. Updates will sadly be irregular.


	2. Kansas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You make a pretty good pair" he had said. Stiles never once gave it a second thought. Or so he keeps telling himself anyway. At least not until the dreams started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This started off as a one shot gag that I had been wanting to expand on. The original idea was to do more similar one shots and maybe tie them together later on, but it got away from me and now I am apparently writing out the whole story. Chapters will thankfully be short though. At least I'm hoping they will be.
> 
> So this chapter serves to explain the first one shot gag. It and the following chapter will act as a transition into the Oz story, which will (hopefully) have the same quirky, parodying tone I was trying for with the first chapter.
> 
> I hope people like it.

It had been months since the events revolving around Jackson's stint as lizard boy had been resolved. While Captain Jackass was back to his old self, with the exception of being a werewolf, it still seemed to Stiles that Jackson was making an effort to reign his attitude in a bit. Though not by much, and when he was even around anyway. Aside from that, things were more or less back to normal. As normal as things can be after the revelation that werewolves are among us anyway.

Unfortunately for Stiles however his “more or less normal” had become decidedly less in recent days. Not only had he been having scary vivid dreams about a certain sour Alpha, but in each one he'd been woken by the appearance of creepy and very-much-still-dead stalker Matt, who was making claims to the perfection of Stiles and Derek's pairing.

Stiles remembers the night Matt had spoken those words for real. He and the people he cared about almost lost their lives that night. Despite barely surviving the ordeal, it was difficult not to think of the many innocent men and woman who had been the ones so carelessly killed. People who had nothing to do with the kanima, werewolves, or hunters. Then there was Matt, the hydrophobic nut-job so ironically himself murdered at the hands of a geriatric psychopath who had his own ironic agenda in play.

Stiles even now held no sympathy for the young man who had taken his fear and rage and imprinted it on a living killing machine; using his murderous desire to drive it's killing instinct for some corrupt sense of justice. But those words. Those words he had spoken as Stiles lay paralyzed atop the firm and warm torso of an equally paralyzed Derek Hale.

"You make a pretty good pair" he had said. Stiles never once gave it a second thought. Or so he keeps telling himself anyway. At least not until the dreams started.

The most recent had simply been of Stiles singing to the tune of 'The Wizard and I' from the Wicked soundtrack. Something he'd staunchly denying even owning should anyone dare make the accusation. Of course it did not help that he knows the words to every song by heart.

He'd had several of these dreams by now. Each oddly enough having some Wizard of Oz theme to them. All of ending with Matt in some form or another repeating those now infamous words. Stiles had more than once awoke yelling for Matt to shut up. One such instance even being witnessed by his dad, which led to a very unpleasant conversation about that night at the sheriff station.

Stiles had to admit that at this point he was a bit terrified of what it all meant. Could he really be seeking a 'somewhere over the rainbow' with Derek? Had Matt even actually noticed Stiles' attraction to Derek in the first place and truly thought they'd be good together? How could he have though? No one else had. Apparently not even Derek or any other werewolf he knows for that matter. And they were supposed to be able to sense things like that Stiles had thought.

Another aspect which Stiles was uneasy to consider was that he might actually be haunted by Matt's restless spirit. It wouldn't surprise him if Matt's disembodied specter had stuck around, considering he was most likely destined to some pit of hell for his crimes. Stiles recently had asked Derek offhanded if he knew whether ghosts actually existed, but that only got him an annoyed grunt and an equally annoyed side-eyed look before the grumpy Alpha just walked off. Stiles of course didn't realize why he'd received that response until hours later. He supposed it didn't really matter if ghosts were real or not, because Derek was obviously himself haunted.

Stiles had considered posing the question to Peter, given his back-from-the-dead status, but quickly decided against it. After all, it's just best to avoid creepy, homicidal, werewolves altogether. Especially when they are just as likely to kill you, annoyed or not.

Stiles still felt he needed some help with this Matt problem and, although embarrassing, still thought Derek was his best bet in dealing with it. At least as a starting off point. He was after all the main focus of those dreams. Stiles wouldn't tell him that of course. Besides, Stiles still did need to apologize and explain about the ghost question.

So Stiles headed out in search of Derek. He'd tried at the train depot first, but that had been long abandoned. He then tried the new loft he remembered hearing Isaac mention. He only found Peter there, and didn't bother asking him where to find Derek as it would most likely have proved both fruitless and irritatingly terrifying.

So while he thought it was a long shot, Stiles headed out toward the Hale house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this takes place well after Season 2 and most likely overlaps into Season 3, despite references to Jackson still being around. I will be ignoring anything to do with the Alpha Pack unless I think one of them might fit as some Oz character.
> 
> For this depiction of the Land of Oz I am drawing on multiple media sources. So there are references to the original books, the 1939 film with Judy Garland, The Wiz, as well as both the Wicked books and musical (as one might guess from the first chapter).
> 
> I actually have no idea how the whole Matt thing is going to end up fitting in. I'll probably avoid referencing him until the end. Whenever I get there.


	3. Cyclone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He opened his mouth to speak again but was interrupted by a sudden flash of lightning. The thunder which followed was almost immediate. As was the blast of wind which shook the house violently."

The trek to the Hale property was a quick and familiar one for Stiles. He'd lost track of how many times he'd found himself there over the years, even before Derek had come back to town. The place had fallen to status of urban legend of sorts with stories of people seeing ghosts or inhuman creatures in the area. All bad enough, but then there was the one about people entering the house and never being seen again. Each one of them complete bullshit of course... well mostly. Stiles himself was guilty of perpetuating some of the stories in order to freak out younger kids, or the occasional non local. It was just one of any number of diversions Stiles had taken to before. Before he learned that there really had been “inhuman creatures” lurking in those woods. Even back then though, he'd always felt bad doing it. Telling those stories that made light of the tragedy which had taken place there. While Stiles never truly knew the Hales personally, he'd always liked them. Derek especially.

Stiles didn’t really remember the first time he'd met Derek Hale. He does however remember the first time he'd taken notice of him. How his presence was able to to pierce through the blinders that was his infatuation for Lydia. It was the first time his parents had taken him to a Beacon Hills High lacrosse game. He doesn't even remember why they'd gone. They never had before, and after that season they never went again. Stiles does remember being mesmerized by the only freshman first-lineman. Since then Stiles always took notice anytime he came across the older boy around town. Derek had been the first person whose mere countenance rivaled that of Lydia's in Stiles' eyes. Not that there were many others since. Danny probably being the most notable. Of course Stiles had just as slim a chance with him as he did with either Lydia or Derek.

Thinking about these things unsettled Stiles nerves as the Hale house came into view. He could already see the black Camaro sitting out front and was beginning to regret having made the trip here. He wasn't exactly sure what he was going to say to Derek now that he'd found him.

He pulled the Jeep up alongside the Camaro and was not surprised to see Derek already standing on the front porch.

“What are you doing here Stiles?” he demanded mildly, as Stiles approached. At least he didn't seem _too_ bothered by Stiles showing up.

“Looking for you,” Stiles answered with a sigh.

“Why?” Derek questioned warily.

“Well for one, I wanted to apologize... and explain,” Stiles paused, taking a breath. “Maybe ask for your help.”

“Okay?” he replied, a bit more uncertain than Stiles was normally used to.

“Okay,” Stiles repeated, not saying anything further. He was still struggling to find his words.

“Well?” Derek finally asked after the silence had gone on to long. His incredibly perfect eyebrows raised in unison beckoning, maybe more like ordering, Stiles to go on.

“Well, I'm sorry... about how I asked that question.” he started after a beat. “Y'know, before, about the ghosts. I didn't think... when I asked it the way I did, that it might bother you. I understand how it could. Believe me.”

“Forget it,” Derek huffed as he turned to go back into the house. “I already had.”

“Thing is though, I was serious.” Stiles continued, clamoring up the porch steps to follow. “I really do need to know. I just figured someone like you, with all the supernatural senses, might have a better insight on that sort of thing.”

“Stiles, are you trying to tell me you think you're being haunted?” Derek scoffed, turning from where he'd stopped at the foot of the staircase. He had a hint of a smile Stiles was not expecting. Whether it was from amusement or mere mockery, Stiles was unsure.

“Yes... and please don't laugh.” Stiles pleaded. “It's really messed up.”

“I'm sure it is,” Derek responded neutrally, taking a seat on the stairs. He paused briefly as if considering what next to say, or if he should even say anything more. “Well, I honestly don't know. I mean, I guess you'd figure if ghosts existed, here would be a mostly likely place as any to find some. Thankfully though, there aren't.”

Stiles nodded in agreement on that last part, because he hated the idea of Derek always coming back to this house just to be tormented by the spirits of his lost family.

“This is something you'd probably be better off asking Peter or even Deaton.” Derek finally added after after a moment.

“I considered it,” Stiles admitted, looking down at Derek. “but you know Deaton and how cryptic he is... and Peter, I don't even want to get started on him.”

“Yeah,” Derek sighed knowing those facts all too well.

“Guess this was a waste of time then,” Stiles said, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “I'm sorry if I bothered you. You probably came here to be alone, so thanks for not just telling me to get lost the minute you saw me.”

“It's okay, Stiles. Don't worry about it.” Derek said genuinely.

“Thanks, I guess I'll go now,” Stiles gestured toward the door with his thumb as he backed away.

Derek sighed again and stood, “You don't have to...”

“What?” Stiles gaped, freezing in mid turn. It was rare that Derek was ever voluntarily alone with Stiles when there was no other option. Rare, as in never.

“I can't really offer much,” Derek said shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans, “but if you need to talk about what's bothering you, I guess I could listen.” 

“Really?” Stiles asked, trying to hold back a smile. It was even rarer still that Derek and Stiles shared a genuine conversation. Especially one which could, and would, prove to be so undoubtedly personal.

“Yeah,” Derek replied motioning for Stiles to move to the adjacent room, where there was still actual furniture. “If you want.”

“Uh, yeah. Yes.” Stiles stumbled, both verbally and physically. “Thank you.”

“So I guess it started with these weird dreams...” Stiles began. He wasn't going to reveal everything, but it was nice to get the chance to vent.

_“Dreams?_ ” Derek startled as if the word had stung him.

He opened his mouth to speak again but was interrupted by a sudden flash of lightning. The thunder which followed was almost immediate. As was the blast of wind which shook the house violently.

“ _What the..!_ ” Stiles shouted as the wind howled with a demonic rage; shaking not only the house to it's foundation, but Stiles as well.

There was more lightning and thunder as the front door and all the nearby windows burst inward, sending shards of wood and glass flying everywhere.

“ _Stiles!_ ” Derek cried as he tackled Stiles to the floor, throwing his body across the boy in an attempt to shield him.

An incredible jolt shook the house so intensely that it felt as if it had been ripped from the earth. There was a sudden loud crack heard above, followed by a large beam crashing to the floor; just shy of where the boys had themselves fallen.

The room itself felt as if it were spinning. The roaring wind grew deafening while the house continued to shudder and rock. As Stiles screamed throughout the commotion, Derek wrapped his arms tightly around him, trying take the brunt of any flying debris.

Stiles could not remember what happened after that. Perhaps because he had taken a blow to the head. Or perhaps he just fainted. All he knew was that, at some point, everything seemed to dissolve into a swirling darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even though these chapters are short this one was so problematic. Still not entirely pleased with it, particularly some of the background I gave Stiles at the beginning, but I would rather just get it out of the way and move on to the fun. There are some things left unsaid in this chapter also which I hope to address in subsequent chapters, specifically concerning Derek. We'll see how well that develops.


	4. Shoes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The house began to pitch. The kitchen took a slitch. It landed on the Wicked Witch in the middle of a ditch, which was not a healthy situation for the Wicked Witch."
> 
> In which Stiles and Derek find themselves in the Land of Oz, there is singing, and Derek cannot deal.

Stiles came-to feeling a heavy warmth on his back. It took him a minute to realize that someone had wrapped themselves protectively around him. It was another minute of staring at the debris in his immediate view before he remembered where he was and exactly whose arms were holding him.

“Derek,” Stiles croaked, as he lightly patted Derek on the arm.

Derek's hold on him tightened momentarily but quickly loosened allowing Stiles to sit up and take everything in.

Derek sat up as well, clearing his throat, almost nervously Stiles thought, before finally speaking. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah. A bit shaken maybe,” Stiles answered taking a note of his condition. He then turned his eyes to Derek, giving the other man a cautious visual inspection. “How about you?”

“Well enough,” Derek said as he stood, dusting himself off.

Stiles joined him and together they took in the even greater damage the house had suffered from the storm. Maybe in its previous state as a burnt out shell it could have possibly been restored, but now it was just an unsalvageable wreck. 

“Sorry,” Stiles offered, unsure of what else to say.

Derek let out a long deep sigh. “Not like it was your fault.”

“Yeah, but dude, this was your home.”

“It hasn't been a home for a very long time,” Derek said solemnly, looking everywhere but at Stiles.

“Maybe,” Stiles nodded, “but you keep coming back to it, so it's gotta still mean something to you. And yeah, I know it makes no difference, but I'm still sorry. I'm sorry about a lot of things.”

Derek let out another sigh, finally turning to look in Stiles direction, although maybe not directly at him. “Thanks.”

Stiles gave him a nod and a weak smile. Derek oddly enough attempted the same.

“C'mon, we better get out of here,” Derek said pulling Stiles along by the shoulder. “I don't need another knock to the head shielding you if the roof decides to cave in on us...”

“Dude, you said you were okay.”

“I healed,” Derek said with a smirk.

Stiles wanted to call Derek out on his sass, but the sight that greeted them once they made they're way out of the house had left him momentarily dumbstruck.

Gone were the thick woods that surrounded the Hale property. In their stead was an expanse of grassland, which though still spotted with trees and bushes, was not nearly so dense. That was not the only thing that struck Stiles as odd though. It was the brightness of everything. The plants were so green and the sky was so blue. It was all incredibly vivid and saturated.

“Holy crap, who turned up the technicolor?” Stiles finally exclaimed, mouth agape.

“What the hell is this?” Derek questioned, equally stunned.

Stiles found himself spinning trying to make sense of the new landscape. He had a nagging sensation that there was something oddly familiar about the situation. He was stopped by Derek who, once again took him by the shoulder and, turned him to face the same direction he was looking off towards with intense scrutiny.

Stiles restrained himself from asking what Derek was looking at, guessing he was most likely hearing something approach from afar. Sure enough, Stiles then saw as a group of people appeared over a hill in the distance, walking steadily towards them.

Stiles could already make out that the group of four all wore blue, save for the man dressed in white who was leading them. As they drew nearer, Stiles had a strange feeling that he knew the man in front.

Stiles didn't have to guess at who it was though, as the familiar face with it's piercing eyes, brilliant smile, and extraordinary dimples became intently clear.

“Whoa, _Danny?_ ” Stiles exclaimed dumbfounded.

“We welcome you noble sorcerer and your noble... familiar,” Danny greeted them. “I come representing the Munchkin people, who offer their many thanks to you for killing the Wicked Witch of the East and delivering them from her wretched tyranny.”

“You've gotta be kidding me...” Derek deadpanned.

“Uh, no. She was pretty bad. Though not so much anymore,” Danny replied, motioning in the direction of the Hale house from under which protruded a pair of legs wearing striped stockings and brightly shining silver shoes on their feet.

“We... we really aren't in 'Kansas' anymore. This is so unreal,” Stiles muttered shaking his head. Was he dreaming? It didn't feel like a dream this time, despite the stark similarities of the situation. This was the first instance however of someone he knew in real life other than Derek or Matt making a cameo.

“So if she was the Wicked Witch of the East, I suppose that makes you Glinda?” Derek snarked at a level that rivaled Peter. Stiles was more than certain it was a Hale family trait. A streak of realism too familiar for this to be just a dream. 

“Oh, no. Glinda's the Good Witch of the South. I'm the Good Witch of the North,” Danny replied with a wink.

“Warlock,” Derek corrected him sarcastically. “A male witch is called a warlock.”

“Sometimes, but not always. Have you not seen Charmed?” Danny smirked.

A sudden explosion of smoke and fire startled the small gathering, sending the three Munchkins scattered in terror, taking cover in the surrounding brush. Stiles found himself being enveloped by Derek who turned him away from the blast. He gripped at the arms Derek had once again wrapped around him. His heart raced and he was unsure whether it was due to the blast or the feeling of Derek's weight against him yet again.

Stiles noted as Danny, who was apparently the only one unaffected by the disturbance, drew closer to them and patted Derek on the shoulder. “It's okay,” he said calmly. Derek seemed to take the assurance and released his hold of Stiles. The two of them turned back to see what had caused the commotion.

Where the smoke and fire had appeared there was now a woman. She wore a a long black dress, a pointed hat upon her head, and held a broom in her hand. Though she was turned away from them as she surveyed the damage cause by the fallen house, the verdant hue of her flesh was quite obvious.

“Allison?” Stiles gaped, as she turned to face them, revealing a patch over her left eye. Despite the green painted skin and the midnight black of her apparel, it was unmistakeably Allison.

“Who killed my Aunt? Who killed the Witch of the East?” She demanded, with a ferocity that was all too familiar. “She was like a sister to me.”

“Whoa, that was Kate?” Stiles gasped, as he felt Derek, who hadn't lessened the distance between them, momentarily go tense at his side.

“Was it you?” Allison asked, pointing a finger towards both Stiles and Derek accusingly.

“What? No! It was an accident!” Stiles sputtered.

“Well, I can make accidents happen too, little boy,” the Witch, Allison, warned as she stepped closer. To which Derek responded by emitting a low growl as he pulled Stiles back behind both him and the Good Witch.

“Aren't you forgetting the Silver Shoes?” Danny then interrupted, addressing the Wicked Witch.

“Yes, the shoes,” Allison remarked, realizing her mistake.

She turned back to the scene of her dead aunt's legs jutting out from beneath the crashed Hale house. Reaching out to claim them, the shoes suddenly vanished beneath her fingers as the dead witch's legs dissolved into nothing.

“They're gone!” she shouted fiercely. Turning, she marched toward Danny, threateningly. “The Silver Shoes, what have you done with them! Give them back or I'll...”

“It's too late,” Danny declared, gesturing to Stiles' feet. “There they are, and there they'll stay.”

Stiles looked down in shock to see the shoes he'd been previously wearing had now been replaced. They were however not the same sparkling high heels he'd seen on the dead witch's feet. They had changed and were now not unlike the Adidas sneakers he normally wore, with the exception that they shone with a brilliant argent allure.

“Give me back those shoes! They're mine. I'm the only one who knows how to use their power. They're useless to you,” Allison bargained.

“Don't listen to her,” Danny advised Stiles. “They must be very powerful if she wants them so badly.”

“You stay out of this if you know what's good for you,” the Wicked Witch threatened.

“Witch, please. You have no power here.” Danny taunted. “Now get lost before someone drops a house on you too.”

At that remark, Allison took a step back, shooting her apparently only good eye upward to ensure the skies were truly clear of any errant flying structures.

“Okay,” she conceded. “I can bide my time, but don't you think for a second that this is the end of it.”

Her expression then went especially hard as she once again extended a threatening finger to Stiles and Derek. “I'll get you, my pretty... and your little dog too!”

With that, in another burst of smoke and flame, she was gone. Though the echo of her malevolent cackling lingered. 

“Such, a show-off,” Danny commented turning back to Stiles.

“Well that was...” Stiles began to say.

“Terrifying,” Derek interjected. Though the majority of his tension had left.

“I know, right?” Stiles had to agree. “I mean, Allison was scary enough with just her bow. The smoke and fireballs are a bit much.”

“Don't worry” Danny said placing a hand on the side of Stiles' face and pressing his lips to the boy's forehead.

“What was that for?” Stiles asked, wide-eyed, as Danny pulled back.

“Protection,” Danny replied with a grin that Stiles could easily get lost in. “No one would dare harm someone kissed by the Witch of the North.”

“Ahem,” Derek cleared his throat loudly, and a little too forcefully to be mistaken as genuine. “So what are we supposed to do now?”

Danny hummed contemplatively. A series of chirps was heard to which Danny reacted by retrieving from his pocket, of all things, a phone.

“Guess as a witch you don't have much trouble finding bars, huh?” Derek snarked, again. Danny only responded with another dazzling smile as he tapped the screen of his phone.

Stiles wasn't sure, he was never sure when it came to Derek, but he could swear that Danny's smile may have had the same stunning affect on the Alpha that it had on him. It definitely shut him up. For now anyway. Stiles had to force back his laughter at the thought.

“Well,” Danny spoke again. “According to this... Stiles and... Derek. You are to go to the Emerald City.”

“Now why didn't we think of that?” Derek scoffed.

“ _Sweet boys, let me tell you 'bout the world and the way things are._ ” Danny suddenly began to sing as he was joined by the previous three Munchkins who had returned from their hiding places, as well as several others Stiles never noticed approaching.

“What are you doing?” Derek demanded as Danny and the Munchkins danced around him and Stiles, providing back up vocals.

“Oh, there's singing!” Stiles laughed gleefully. He may have been having too much fun with the bizarre situation.

“ _You come from a diff'rent place, and I know you've traveled far._ ” Danny continued. “ _Now that you've told me what it is... I'd better point you toward the Wiz!_ ”

“ _He's the Wiz..._ ” The Munchkins declared. 

“ _He's the one, he's the only one who can give your wish right to ya._ ” Danny sang on, briefly giving Derek and Stiles a squeeze of their shoulders as he stepped between them.

“Please stop.” Derek tried, seeming genuinely upset by this occurrence.

“ _He's the Wizard..._ ” The Munchkins went on.

“ _He can send you back through time by runnin' magic through ya._ ” Danny sang on, wiggling his fingers at the boys in mock spellcasting. “ _All of the superpower's his. Listen and I'll tell you where he is..._ ”

Derek then grabbed Danny by the shoulders, forcing him to stay in place and causing the dancing crowd to stop in their tracks as well. At the sudden silence and all eyes on him, Derek released Danny. 

“Yes, we _know_ ,” he spoke remarkably calmly through gritted teeth. Although Stiles was certain that Derek was quite embarrassed by his actions. “ _He's the Wiz, and he lives in Oz._ Can. We. Just. Not. With the _singing?_ ”

“Fine, _fine_. You know your friend here is a real sourpuss.” Danny said, addressing the last part to Stiles.

“Sourwolf, actually,” Stiles corrected devilishly with a wink in Derek's direction. He would be angry (he probably should be angry) with Derek for ruining the fun, but he couldn't help but find the frantic aversion to the singing and dancing somehow endearingly cute.

“Stiles...” Derek seemed to whine.

“Okay, so we're going into the Emerald City then.” Stiles declared, dismissing Derek's protest. “You coming with us Danny?”

“Can't, this is your journey. Besides, I have a date to get back to. Was actually spending some much needed quality time with my boyfriend when I got called down here.” Danny revealed. “I should be getting back to him.”

Stiles nodded in understanding, but debated about whether or not to ask who was the lucky guy waiting for Danny.

“I will however point you in right direction.” Danny interjected with yet another brilliant smile, before Stiles could voice his curiosity.

"So, _we're off to see the Wizard!_ " Stiles exclaimed, clapping his hands together.

“ _The Wonderful Wizard of Oz!_ ” Danny added.

"Stiles!" Derek barked in warning. As if yelling someone's name was even some sort of effective warning. “Do not encourage them.”

"C'mon Derek, let's _ease on down the road!_ " Stiles teased.

"Stiles, no!" Derek warned again, flashing his Alpha-red eyes.

Stiles just laughed. Derek frowned. Danny smiled as he gestured for them to follow him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope people enjoy my choices in the casting of the characters that appear in this chapter. Initially I had cast Mr. Harris as the Wicked Witch of the West given that he is a natural nemesis for Stiles, then I had considered Kate for that role, but settled on Allison given her villain status at the end of Season 2. I think she works for the role as I'm referencing several versions of the Land of Oz in this story, including Wicked.
> 
> Now, there are questions raised here which I'm hoping to address in subsequent chapters. Most definitely I will be referencing later on the irony in the Hale house killing Kate Argent as the Wicked Witch of the East. Something that I somehow only just realized long after I had written it. I do feel quite ridiculous for not having realized it initially.


	5. The Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They walk, Stiles talks, and there's a party at Boq's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Derek's point of view.

Danny had directed them which way to go toward the Emerald City. They had to walk because, according to him, the Oz railway no longer ran through Munchkinland since they'd seceded from the central government under the rule of Kate... the _Wicked Witch of the East_. Something Derek still couldn't get his mind around, and probably never would. It fit though, he could say that for sure. So he and Stiles were now on the Yellow Brick Road, which was still apparently not a great option either. It was alright so far, but Danny had warned that the road closer to the border of Munchkinland was in particularly bad shape.

Danny had left them then, disappearing in a flash. To which Stiles had remarked, “People here come and go so quickly.” Derek got the joke, but didn't acknowledge it even as Stiles prodded for a reaction.

They walked in silence after that. Well mostly silence, apart from Stiles humming. He had started off, with the classic tune of “We're off to see the Wizard” then switched to “Ease On Down the Road.” Now he hummed the tune to 'He's the Wizard,' which Danny had been singing earlier... before Derek had made him stop. Derek hadn't taken any action to stop Stiles though. It was just humming, no actual singing. Not that Derek wasn't curious to hear what Stiles' singing voice was like. Something he should not be thinking about at the moment. Not with Stiles here walking right beside him, in this place that may or may not be a dream. 

Of course it was a dream. It had to be. Except there were too many things that just made it seem too real. Like now, Stiles humming as they walked. Derek was sure Stiles was mocking him, if not testing him to see if he could produce an outburst similar to the one Danny had received. At least Stiles hadn't confronted him directly about that, but Derek was sure he was just biding his time; waiting for the right moment to catch him off guard.

Which was apparently now.

"So," Stiles began. "I didn't realize you had such an aversion to show tunes..."

"I don't have an aversion to show tunes, Stiles" Derek rebutted.

"Huh, well considering you knew the next line to that song Danny was singing, I guess not."

Derek decided not to respond. He couldn't stop Stiles from talking, not that he necessarily wanted to, but Derek didn't have to give the boy the satisfaction of knowing he was pushing his buttons. Stiles, after giving Derek a few side glances, for some reason decided not to pursue the topic, instead moving on to the more pressing concern neither on them had yet to broach.

"So, this is weird, isn't it?" Stiles went on, talking with his hands as he's prone to do. "Us, here, walking along the Yellow Brick Road, headed to the Emerald City..."

Derek just nodded. He was still processing the situation himself and was not liking it.

“You know I've always been a fan of the Wizard of Oz.” Stiles revealed. “It was the first book series I ever loved... Way before Harry Potter. I never actually read them on my own when I was a kid though. My, uh, mom used to read them to me.”

The boy paused briefly at mentioning his mother. Derek had never heard Stiles talk about her before. Of course why would he? Derek never talked about his mother, or any of the loved ones he's lost, with others. It occurred to him that Stiles was probably one of the few people in his life now, other than Isaac, who might understand the losses he's had. Of course Derek hadn't even opened up about these sort of things with Isaac, who was _Pack_. He was sure he could never be able to do so with Stiles of all people.

“Anyway, I remember most of the stories.” Stiles went on. “Used to be obsessed with the Judy Garland film too. I think at one point I wore out our old VHS copy because I'd watched it nearly everyday when I got home from school.”

Derek looked over to see the goofy blushing smile Stiles wore on his face at sharing that memory. Derek couldn't help but smile himself, and was taken a bit aback when Stiles' smile grew just a bit larger at seeing the break in Derek's defenses. Derek of course had to reel himself back, setting his face back to his usual neutral expression. Well, what he considered to be neutral. Others may have suggested it was cold, if not outright hostile. Stiles ducked his head, most likely hiding his amusement at catching Derek off guard. It was of course what he'd suspected was Stiles agenda with his current line of conversation. One-sided as it was.

“Also have a soft spot in my heart for The Wiz,” Stiles added, “even though I still to this day get really freaked out by that subway scene... those damn marionettes...”

“The movie wasn't as good as the stage version.” Derek heard himself confess. He was sure he would regret it immediately.

“Oh my God!” Stiles gaped, which led to a long tirade about the pros and cons of The Wiz film and the variations from the stage version, which Stiles had apparently seen more than once.

Oh, but of course that was not the end of it. Stiles then went on to enthusiastically compare the Wicked musical, which he'd apparently also seen, and the book series it was based on. Derek tried not to let on just how much he enjoyed both himself. He had loved the first book so much but initially had no interest in the musical. Laura surprised him with tickets on his birthday though and despite his misgivings ended up enjoying it quite a bit. Of course he did prefer the books given the choice. He still hadn't read the last book in the series, but then he hadn't exactly had much time for recreational reading lately.

\-----

They continued walking, passing by the little cottages all painted blue in some fashion or another, as was customary in Munchkinland. The sun hung low in the sky and Derek knew it would be dark soon. Though still in Munchkin County, from Derek's recollection that wouldn't necessarily mean they were safe from some of the particularly nasty creature that existed in Oz. Like the Kalidahs, which he expected they would meet before long. Provided their journey matched the events of the original L. Frank Baum text.

Stiles had gone quiet again and was already beginning to drag his feet, but had yet made no complaints about fatigue. Derek knew the boy had to be tired by now, because he had grown weary himself. Luckily Derek knew they would have a safe place to rest shortly...

Unfortunately getting that rest meant he'd have to endure the torment of socializing with rowdy celebrating Munchkins. Looking over at Stiles and seeing how his initial exuberance has bled away into exhaustion, Derek conceded that he probably could put up with it for the boy's sake. Besides, he'd have other people who could distract Stiles from talking at him about his horrible opinions, like how he believed thought Wicked musical's portrayal of Fiyero was a much improvement over the book. Apparently they had made him 'hotter.'

Derek couldn't believe his ears when he'd heard that. The Fiyero in the book had been plenty 'hot.' He was also likable and educated. If not for the infidelity, Derek might have said the character was perfect.

Derek shook his head to clear the errant thoughts.

"You don't look so great," he finally said, daring a glance at Stiles.

“Hey I look awesome, just a little tired is all.” Stiles replied, shoulders slumping. “We've been walking for hours. Doesn't seem like such a long journey when it takes place over a few pages but walking the distance from Munchkinland to the Emerald City for 'real' is exhausting...”

“We can stop by the next place for the night if you want.” Derek offered, knowing full well they were stopping regardless of what Stiles' response was.

“How do you even know there is a next place and how do you know they'd even let us stay?”

“Huh, have you even read The Wizard of Oz?”

“Yeah... where were you when I was ranting back there?” Stiles asked rhetorically gesturing behind them. “It's just been a while.”

“Well, at some point Dorothy... and Toto...” Derek hesitated, not wanting to admit it, but he was obviously Toto in this situation, “come across a party at the house of a Munchkin named Boq.”

“Oh right!” Stiles perked up. “Good ol' Boq. Friend of Elphaba Thropp in youth and a well-to-do prominent citizen of Munchkin County in middle age. Depending on which fiction you follow anyway. Yeah, he invites Dorothy and Toto to stay the night and have breakfast in the morning. I could go for some breakfast right now, come to think of it...” Stiles admits with his last statement as he slid a hand over his stomach.

Derek could use some food as well. In the book, Dorothy's house still had food and other necessities that she'd taken with them, but his house had nothing. Nothing but memories...

As they reached the pinnacle of the low sloping hill they'd been traversing, there below in the distance stood a stately manor surrounded by sizable farmland. Adjacent to the large house was erected an equally sizable tent decorated with streamers and similarly festive bobbles. There were Munchkins running about making preparations, and Derek could see others approaching from different directions coming to partake in the celebration.

They stood and admired the scene for a moment. Well Derek admired, even though he pretended to be more annoyed at it than anything else. It's not like such pretense was intentional, it just seemed easier than showing others that he had more dimensions to him that might lend them to trying to find a weakness amongst them. He had no problem being offensively or defensively sarcastic. Of course that only came natural. Derek often wondered if it was genetic. His Uncle Peter was the king of sass and Derek remembers his father for the most part being able to stand toe to toe with him. Yet neither was a match when it came to Derek's mother, Thalia. Laura probably came the closest, even more so after she became Alpha. Thankfully she'd spared Derek her full snark from that point on, choosing to reserve it for whatever poor soul dared cross her.

Stiles had a sizable sarcastic streak in him also, one that showed quite often. It's probably what made Derek so comfortable around the boy, despite how much he'd avoid showing it outwardly. Stiles reminded him if his family, of home. He could never tell what Stiles was thinking though, even as they both stared admiring the view of the hustle and bustle going on at the estate below.

It was then that Stiles grabbed Derek's arm, giving it a little tug that broke Derek away from his rambling thoughts. "C'mon, dude.” Stiles said. “We better get a move on, it'll be dark by the time we make it to the house."

Derek looked down at Stiles' hand guiding him as they descended the slope, following the yellow brick road down to the large house, wondering how and why the boy could sometimes seem so comfortable with him as well.

\-----

The sun was setting as they reached the house where they were immediately greeted by a Munchkin on the road who guided them to the large tent and the Munchkin who owned the place. The man was named Boq as they'd expected, however he was not exactly whom they expected.

"Greenberg get your ass down from that table!" The man, identified as Boq, yelled at another Munchkin who was dancing on a table at the opposite end of the tent.

"Holy crap," Stiles muttered, "Coach?"

The man was indeed Stiles' lacrosse coach, albeit slightly shorter than Derek remembers him. He had seen the man the numerous times he'd lurked... skulked, no, _investigated_ the High School since returning to Beacon Hills. In any case, Derek found the man amusing if not perhaps a little unstable.

"Sorcerer!" Coach-Boq exclaimed with a rather sadistic grin, "Welcome! Welcome, both you and your, uh, 'friend' there."

Derek was concerned at the movement the man's eyebrows made on the word 'friend.'

"There's that Sorcerer business again," Stiles whispered to Derek as they both awkwardly waved to Coach-Boq.

"It has been a while since you've read the book hasn't it?" Derek replied. "Don't worry, he'll explain later."

"Come, join in the festivities,” Coach-Boq beckoned. “You are the reason for them after all."

Coach-Boq jovially lead them to a table and had them seated. Though he had servants running around serving all manner of Munchkin cuisine and drink, Coach-Boq himself waited on them; piling platters and plates and cups of various delicious looking things before the two boys. Once the table was covered from end to end in food apparently just for Derek and Stiles, Coach-Boq sat beside Stiles and gestured for them to partake.

Stiles was not at all shy about shoving food into his face. Derek watched in awe and a bit of disgust. Most of the food was in the form of various cakes and pies which Stiles consumed with indiscriminate gusto. On the positive side it appeared there wasn't a single consumable which Stiles didn't seem to find enjoyable, going by the occasional groans of pleasure he made with each bite. Derek would himself eat, a fair more delicately in comparison, once he'd gotten over the experience of watching a ravenous Stiles eat his fill. He would have to admit, the food was no disappointment and in some instances he wondered if maybe Stiles' positive reactions to it may have even been understated. If Stiles ever doing anything understated was even possible.

As promised Coach-Boq did eventually explain to Stiles the reason people had been referring to him as a sorcerer. He revealed that good witches and wizards, like Danny, wore white, and that blue is the color of Munchkinland. Taking into account that Stiles had killed the powerful Witch Kate, and now not only wore her magic shoes, but also a white t-shirt with a blue and white plaid shirt over it, the Munchkins inferred that he was both a powerful and friendly sorcerer. Derek smirked at Stiles reaction to the revelation as he apparently hadn't even taken note of the great coincidence in his manner of dress until then. Derek hadn't noticed it himself until Boq had greeted them and Stiles had questioned once more being called a sorcerer. Which was odd considering how much Derek had been noticing about Stiles since this 'dream' had begun.

\-----

The party wound down eventually, but not before Stiles had led the Munchkins in a round of 'Ding Dong the Witch is Dead.' Derek didn't even bother to stop him. He was tired and, despite his fears, didn't have the energy to do anything about it anyway. Besides that Stiles was keeping the attention of the Munchkins, diverting any Derek may have received otherwise.

“Amazing, isn't he?” Derek heard a voice say beside him. It almost startled him out of his daze because he hadn't even noticed the man approach and take a seat beside him.

It was Boq of course and he was making those suggestive motions with his eyebrows again.

“I don't... what do you mean?” Derek responded, taken off guard.

“Your Stiles there. He's pretty amazing.”

“I guess,” Derek admitted, a bit unsure that he should even be making such a revelation, no matter how minor, even to an apparition in a dream.

“You guess? He saved an entire nation from bondage! Not to mention you haven't taken your eyes off him all night. He's got you transfixed,” Couch huffed mirthfully. “Don't tell me he's got you under a spell?”

“Could be...” Derek pondered aloud. He'd often wondered if there was some hidden power within Stiles that could explain more than just a few of things which had him concerned.

“Yeah, well you seem to have a good thing the two of you.” He paused a bit and looked at Derek with with a look of intent sincerity. “Not everyone might think so, but I'm not one to judge. Neither is anyone else for that matter.”

Derek just nodded expressionless, not entire sure how else to respond. Thankfully Coach-Boq did not pry any further as something else had taken his attention, causing him to boisterously leap from his seat.

“Dammit Greenberg, what the hell are you doing over there!”

\-----

After that, Boq shut the part down. The guests who were staying the night all shuffled off to their rooms in the large house, and Boq led Stiles and Derek to a small room at the top of a winding staircase.

“I apologize, we didn't have any other rooms so I kicked Greenberg out of this one,” Coach-Boq explained. “It was too nice for him anyway so I had him put in the barn. He doesn't mind.”

“It's only got the one bed, but I didn't think that'd be a problem for you boys.” He laughed, playfully slapping them both on the back and then bid them a good night.

Left alone together in the cozy room, Derek could feel the tension rolling off of Stiles.

“So...” Stiles drawled.

“It's okay Stiles, I'll take the floor,” Derek offered.

“What? No dude. We can share, we can totally share,” Stile insisted. “I mean the bed is a little small so it might be awkward but we can totally make it work.”

Derek relented with no additional argument, because even though he could manage the floor he really did not want to. It was awkward of course. They'd chosen to remain fully clothed in an attempt to make things less so, only removing their outermost layers. Stiles discarding his hoodie and plaid over shirt, Derek his jacket and shoes. Stiles chose to keep his shoes on of course. He'd been warned not to remove them after all.

It took a while for the two of them to find positions that were comfortable with minimal awkwardness. More than once Stiles caught Derek with his elbow. Only once with his knee. Thankfully Derek had not been facing Stiles on that one. They eventually ended with their backs pressed against each other. Derek could feel every movement of Stiles body as he wiggled about trying to get comfortable. He tried not to focus on the sensations that resulted as Stiles' rear pressed into his and their legs brushed against one another.

Stiles was asleep as soon as he was reasonably comfortable. Despite his fatigue, Derek was not so lucky. The silence of night just left his mind free to run wild with all the errant thoughts of the preceding day in addition to all the feelings he'd been continually struggling with for weeks now.

If Derek was ever honest with himself he'd admit to liking Stiles. To finding him fascinating and surprising, and most of all familiar, in ways that always left him questioning. Questioning whether he should stop pretending to merely tolerate the boy, whether he should allow their relationship to progress from reluctant allies to friends... and maybe more.

His mind finally went back to before the storm that shunted the two of them to this 'place.' He had not been surprised that Stiles had sought him out that day. Persistence was both a virtue and a curse where stiles was concerned. However where Derek had merely expected Stiles to further interrogate him regarding the existence of various supernatural beings, Derek had not expected Stiles to apologize. He hadn't even been offended by Stiles' initial query in all honesty. He was more concerned about being bombarded with the usual litany of irrelevant questions that amounted to nothing of importance concerning anything that was occurring at the time.

Stiles as it turned out however had genuinely been bothered by whatever it was that lead him to believe he was being haunted by some incorporeal being. With the boy curled up asleep at his side, Derek debated whether he shouldn't try asking Stiles about it.

Would it even amount to anything though? Derek was not even certain the Stiles that was with him now was actually the real Stiles. The whole situation reeked of being the same type of nightmare he'd been having recently. Not that those dreams were actually unpleasant. In fact they were, in their own way, quite perfect. Until they ended with that kid Matt rearing in his sadistic face.

Apart from what he'd heard from Stiles and Scott, and later Isaac, Derek didn't even know Matt. Had never even met him before that night at the Sheriff station. Even though Matt had also died that night, he'd apparently left a large impact on Derek.

Maybe Matt was actually a ghost and had been haunting him. Perhaps he had been haunting Stiles as well. If only Derek could trust that any of this was real he might discuss it with Stiles. Ask him about the dreams he'd mentioned having. Could any of this possibly be real? Derek's dreams had never felt this vividly real. He could feel Stiles breathing next to him, detect every movement of his muscles, and hear the steady drumming if his heart. The dreams had also never lasted this long. Matt had yet to show up, even after there had been singing.

Derek had no aversion to show tunes, or singing in general. He didn't want to admit it, but here in this dream that did not feel like a dream, he actually feared anything that might signal a premature end to it. It's how all the other dreams, had ended. Someone would begin to sing, usually Stiles but sometimes Derek, and he was actually happy. However Matt would suddenly be there remarking about the perfection of Derek and Stiles as a couple, and Derek would find himself alone in the darkness.

This particular dream had so far not been ideal as the others had started out, but Derek still did not want to let it go. Not just yet. He turned in his spot on the bed to face Stiles, best as he could to keep from waking him.

The room was dark but enough light filtered through the window, from some unspecified light source, for Derek to clearly make out the definition of Stiles' face. This had to be a dream. How could it not be? All sense of logic and reason would tell any sensible person that such a situation was not possible.

 _It has to be_ , Derek thought as he reached out in the darkness and delicately traced the outline of Stiles face with the back of his hand. His skin was soft but Derek also felt the slight prick of new stubble. He pulled back at the sensation and Stiles stirred a bit, but did not wake. Derek looked at the boy a moment longer and let out a resigned sigh as he wrapped his arm around him. He pulled Stiles close, burying his face into the back of the boy's neck and let all his troubling thoughts drift away. If this was a dream, Derek did not want to risk falling asleep here and find himself waking in the real world without at least allowing himself this one moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was too long for what I'm going for with this story, but Derek has a lot of FEELS and I tried to relate them as best as I could given how abbreviated they are here.


End file.
